


Make thick my blood

by GreenPhoenix



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1782958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenPhoenix/pseuds/GreenPhoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Suzanne hadn't interrupted Toby and Chris backstage in "Junkyard Dawgs".<br/>What could have happened, go on have a wild guess.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make thick my blood

He was still cuffed to the chair. Keller removed the gag and he would cry for help, but no one was nearby. Anger was pulsing though him and fear. His former lover had killed three innocent boys and all those others. He killed for sport and why should he not try with Toby if he disagreed about something? Keller was straddling him now, pressing lips to his as if this was the normal thing to do. He felt himself responding despite nobler intentions, Chris’ tongue dipped inside his mouth; he was reclaiming ownership he never really relinquished. Toby moaned softly and felt Chris harden against him though his pants. His own erection was stirring. Chris always had that effect on him. “I love you,” he said. “You should trust me. I would never leave you again.”

Toby responded by biting his lip, drawing blood.

"Feisty as ever,” said Chris and slowly moved off him. Toby felt relief but also a strange sense of disappointment. Chris uncuffed his hands. Toby looked at him and licked his lips.

“Fuck me,” he said, not really knowing why. Chris was on him in seconds, pushing him down on the floor and stripping his pants off. Toby barely had time to think of what he was doing as clever hands started stroking him.

“That’s it,” Chris breathed. Chris undressed, eyes never leaving his. The hard body was familiar to Toby, but he still couldn’t stop staring. Chris moved over Toby and started preparing him.

“Yes,” he said. Total insanity. Anyone could walk in here. Chris was inside him and started a strong rhythm before he had time to think.

“Yes, baby, yes,” was all Chris could manage, it had been too long. It hurt Toby like hell, but muscles unaccustomed to the invasion were slowly adapting. The weight of Chris’ body covering him felt oddly comforting. Toby felt a blinding wave of pleasure before too long. Chris’ hand on his cock pumping in time with his thrusts took him over the edge; Chris followed filling him with his release. At that moment Suzanne walked in. Her face reddened as she stammered, “What the fuck’s going on here?” “Just a little harmless fun between consenting adults,” said Chris and grinned. He got dressed, still smiling. “I’ll bet,” said Suzanne as she watched them. Toby sighed. Just what did this actually mean? Could he trust Chris after everything he’d done?

Toby felt a sense of contentment despite his worries. Being with Chris had been better than good. He still couldn’t, wouldn’t trust him but he needed someone to rely on. So many were dead already. He’d barely gotten used to Said being dead, not to mention his father. Chris had messed up his parole, but who else could he turn to in here? Sister Pete couldn’t hold him through restless nights of nightmares or kill for him.

*

They met in the showers; Keller had paid a hack to stay away. This time there would be no interruptions. Beecher pushed him against the shower stall, and pushed slick fingers inside him, making him ready. His breath was hot against Keller’s ear.

“You’ll like this,” said Toby coldly and pushed his cock inside with full force. “I’m touching you. Like you touched me with your poison.”

Keller shuddered as the man he loved fucked him with brutal strength and a bruising grip on his hips. “Screw you and your pretty words, “ he continued, words starting to come with shorter and shorter breaths, voice husky despite the venom pulsing though each syllable. “Screw you and your manipulations. You are a drug, you are poison. You are death, you’ll never let me live.” Beecher grew quiet after that; only guttural moans escaped his lips as he pushed harder and harder. “Fuck you,” he said and came hard inside Keller. “I love you,” said Chris and felt his own release shoot out of him over Toby’s angry hands, with Toby’s cock still inside him. “Sure you do,” said Beecher and left Keller alone in the showers, wet and softening. Despite his words, he still cared enough to make it hurt. He wasn’t indifferent. He never would be.

*

Beecher didn’t sleep that night, haunted by images of all he and Chris had been through. Everything they’d done to each other in the name of love, every deed coloured by hatred. Keller was a deceitful snake, and he should crush him like one. Despite that one touch of Keller’s hand was all it took to awaken his desire. He should have stayed away from Chris earlier. He’d fucked him and Chris had taken everything he had to offer with relish. Blessing each hard stroke like it was a caress. Fuck. He still loved Keller. He couldn’t stop. Loved him more than anyone else. Loved him far more than sanity.

*

News reached him of agent Pierce Taylor’s untimely demise while undercover in Nevada. That meant his investigation into those murders had to be stopped. How convenient and how like Keller to have a hand in that. Not that he could ever prove it, but Toby knew Chris was guilty as sin. As usual. The performance of Macbeth should be interesting.

*

Chris smiled. He handed the shank to Vern and sent him off to his death with a great deal of glee. Vern could believe all he wanted was to fuck Toby one last time and that that was enough. Once was not enough, it was never enough with Toby. Vern was too conceited to realise Chris’ obsession with Toby would never stop, never fade into nothingness. It was part of who he was now. His former master would never understand that. Bye Vern, you old cocksucker.

*

“We’re cellmates again,” said Chris as if he hadn’t arranged Vern’s death at Toby’s hands. As if nothing had changed at all. “That’s great,” said Toby and considered his options. Make peace with Chris and try to avoid strangling him or turn him away for all his sins. “I love you,” said Chris as if that answered all questions.  
“I know. I hate you and your fucking lies, Keller. But I can’t live in here alone. I need you.”  
“You won’t forgive me?” asked Chris.  
“For fucking up my parole? For making me kill Vern? For killing Taylor somehow? For whatever your next brilliant move is? I don’t. I can’t. But I can’t live without you either.”  
“Where does that leave us?”  
“In this prison, in this pod, breathing the same air. Fucking each other or fighting each other. It’s all the same as long as I’m touching you; you don’t care if it’s with a fist or a gentle hand. Isn’t that so?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Who’s the bitch here Keller?”  
“I’m yours whatever you chose to call me.”  
“I’ll have you then. Better or worse. Love or hate,” said Toby and kissed him. They christened the lower bunk with the usual EmCity audience whistling their heartfelt approval.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Oz-prompt-a-thon 2014.
> 
> Title from Macbeth: Lady Macbeth’s monologue:  
> The raven himself is hoarse  
> That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan  
> Under my battlements. Come, you spirits  
> That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,  
> And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full  
> Of direst cruelty. Make thick my blood.  
> Stop up the access and passage to remorse,  
> That no compunctious visitings of nature  
> Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between  
> The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts,  
> And take my milk for gall, you murd'ring ministers,  
> Wherever in your sightless substances  
> You wait on nature’s mischief. Come, thick night,  
> And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell,  
> That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,  
> Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark  
> To cry “Hold, hold!”  
> Act 1: Scene 5.


End file.
